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A Bedtime Story For Elected Public Representatives.

“Whoever shuts their ears to the cry of the poor will also cry out and not be answered”. Proverbs 21:13.

It is Friday evening after all and the vast majority of Irish elected, public representatives will be back home with their families, most having completed yet another busy three day week in Dáil Éireann.

As you lie back with your slippered feet crossed, perched on the coffee table; your bottle of Italian Prosecco suitably chilled; we thought that perhaps a four minute short story, read aloud, might help you to fully relax, as you plot your next move in an effort to ingratiate yourself with those who mistakenly gave you power in the first place.

So, with your kids tucked safely in bed, don those headphones, keeping in mind that this short story is not at all suitable for the ears of minors.

“The Tooth” read by Annette Bening.

Written by Avi Slodovnick and illustrated by Manon Gauthier.

Trust you liked our story and, even more importantly, we hope you actually gleaned something from its content, but for God’s sake don’t let your children hear it.

Night, Night all.


Mikey Ryan – The Dreamer

The Arch Bar, Liberty Square, Thurles, Co. Tipperary.

“You know sleep is a peculiar thing”, said Mikey Ryan. We were above in the Arch Bar, in Liberty Square last night, watching the rugby highlights on the television when he made the above pronouncement.

“You’re right there Mikey”, said I, “Sure, I once read somewhere that there are supposed to be five stages of sleep. The first four stages of sleep make up our non-rapid eye movement, and the fifth stage is when rapid eye movement actually occurs.”

“I can’t help you there”, said Mikey, “but my little woman has suddenly begun to cherish dairy products. She claims they are essential for healthy bones. So, last night I had to endure a feed of some rather blue, mouldy looking cheese, that she had purchased above in the Aldi Supermarket”.

“Begob, sure I know the stuff”, said I, “It’s lovely on hot buttered toast, last thing before you go to bed.”

“I hadn’t even made it to the bed last night”, said Mikey. “I was finishing off this stuff, washing it down with a can of ‘Red Bull’ while watching The Chase on the television, when I apparently dozed off. Then all of a sudden, I see the wife rubbing skin care cream; latter designed and guaranteed to make the wearer look 10 years younger, onto the face of my nine-year-old daughter. She slowly vanished and I woke in a sweat.”

“Gegob you need to be careful with that ‘Red Bull’, said I , “They say that Red Bull makes you fly”.

“True for you”, said Mikey “And fly I surely did. I must have dozed off again, for the next thing I remember there I was sitting on a Boeing 737. On board were five other passengers. There was the US President Donald Trump, Taoiseach Leo Varadakar, His Holiness Pope Francis, British Prime Minister Theresa May and my nine year old daughter. The aircraft pilot suddenly announces over the loud speaker that the plane was about to crash and regrets that there’s only five parachutes on board for six passengers”.

President Trump said “I need one, I’ve got to sort out building that Mexican wall”. He straps one on and jumps. Next, Prime Minister Theresa May says, “Talking of walls, I most definitely need one, as I’ve got to sort out this wretched ‘Brexit Hard Border’ crack”. She takes a parachute and jumps. Then Taoiseach Leo Varadakor says “I’m being the smartest man in Ireland am needed to sort out the long standing Irish financial crises back home”. So, he grabs a parachute and jumps. Next His Holiness Pope Francis smiling says to my daughter, “You and your father can have the last two parachutes my child, I’ve lived a long life and look forward to meeting my God”. My daughter says, “Sure there’s three parachutes left, the ‘Smartest Man in Ireland’ just donned my school bag”.

“I’d call that a nightmare Mikey“, said I, “But would you believe I have two good mates that are afraid to go to sleep at night. They have this recurring dream that they have found jobs and now have to go to work”.

“Give us something similar there Pakie, when you’re ready”, said I, “Remind me again, is it your round or mine Mikey”.


Police Raid On Farmland In Upperchurch Area

“Good God your haemorrhoids would turn to polaroid’s, if you had to stand outside in that bitter cold, for any great length of time tonight.  So, tell me, any news, gossip or scandal that I should be made aware of”, said I to Mikey Ryan, as he tried to attract the attention of Pat Hayes, above in the Arch Bar, Liberty Square, last night.

Attempting to hold two conversations at the same time, Mikey replied “Not much; give us two of your best pints Pakie like a good man, before we die of the thirst”“No not much now, however I did hear on the grapevine that the Peelers were above in Upperchurch, Wednesday last, not sure what exactly they were about”, said Mikey now turning towards me.

“Probably Poitín makers, sure they are world famous for manufacturing that ‘pure, clear, elixir of life’ in that hilly area”, said I, “I wonder were they buying or raiding, did you hear”.

“Don’t know, all I heard was that two members of An Garda Síochána, stopped off at a farm to interview some old local farmer, who was greasing the nipples on the front loader of his tractor. They told the farmer that they believed that illegal activity was being carried out on his farm and they needed to inspect his property,” said Mikey, before swallowing half of his pint glass in a single gulp.

“On the other hand, he could have been operating one of those illegal ‘Grow Houses’, used to propagate cannabis herb”, said I.

“Don’t know that”, said  Mikey, “what I do know is the farmer said okay officers, but please don’t go in that field over there clearly pointing out the exact location”.

“Then the Sergeant, I understand, just verbally exploded”, said Mikey, “aggressively stating he had a search warrant, which gave him the complete authority to go wherever he wished on this property, with no questions asked. “Do you understand”, he bellowed, waving his identity card and search warrant under the farmers nose. According to locals, the farmer just nodded politely, apologised, before shaking his bald head and continuing to work with his grease gun” Mikey continued.

“Typical Gardaí” said I, “so what happened next”.

“Well”, said Mikey, “the Gardaí moved off, but a short time later, the old farmer heard loud screams. On raising his eyes, he spotted the two cops running for their life, being chased by his massive Hereford bull, which boasts having the longest horns in Munster. From the farmers vantage point, with every step, that bull was rapidly gaining ground on the Gardaí, and it seemed likely that they could get badly gored, before the men could reach the safety of a nearby high wooden fence”.

“The old farmer threw down his grease gun”, said Mikey, “and ran to the fence while yelling at the top of his lungs, your search warrant, your search warrant, show him your feckin search warrant!!

“You better give us the same again Pat, when you’re ready”, said I.Facebooktwitterlinkedinmail

Mikey Ryan Attends Imaginary Fund Raising Event

“Begob when the time for the local elections comes around in May this year, we will nearly have to take a half day off work,” said Mikey Ryan, “it’s going to be so busy ticking little boxes”.

Arch Bar, Liberty Square, Thurles, Co Tipperary

We were upstairs in the meeting room in the Arch Bar, Liberty Square. Mikey had spun some yarn about it being necessary that he attend some charity fund raiser meeting and I had been dragged in to confirm the need for his attendance at this imaginary event; thus, the reason for us staying out of the main bar area. If ‘herself ‘ did arrive, we had arranged with Pat to confirm that the meeting had ended earlier than expected.

“Jasus, I doubt if anyone will bother their arse to go voting in the next local elections in Thurles”, said I, “sure only this morning on TippFM, your own namesake, Cllr. Mr Jim Ryan said that Liberty Square was to be upgraded beginning in the, quote,” third quarter of this year”, (September 2019). Within minutes Cllr. Mr Michéal Lowry was contradicting him, stating it wasn’t starting in fact until next year, (2020). Now according to Mr John Butler (Thurles Chamber of Commerce), quote “the long awaited refurbishment of Liberty Square will begin in May to July of this year”, (second quarter 2019).

“Ah sure, those guys are only looking to get their importance highlighted”, said Mikey, “sure I’m talking about the referendum on divorce that is going on at the same time, alongside local and European elections.”

“So, which of our TD’s have run into marriage problems and are looking to change our existing divorce laws”, said I.

“None yet, so far as I am aware”, said Mikey, “but Justice Minister Charlie Flanagan and that Minister for Culture Ms Josepha Madigan one, are both going to be announcing details shortly.

“Begob, now that you highlight it” said I, “I was over in the Premier Hall there before Christmas attending a lecture given by a dietitian. He was saying that the material we put into our stomachs is enough to have already killed most of us sitting here”. “Red meat”, said he, “is a curse, feckin awful”. You will even note that the Taoiseach for Dublin city, Mr Leo Varadkar is even reducing his meat intake. “Them’s soft drinks are corroding our stomach linings; Chinese food is loaded with that Monosodium Glutamate; High fat diets are disastrous, and none of us realizes the long-term harm being secretly caused by those germs in our Irish water”.

However, there is one food that is the most dangerous of all” said he, “we all have already eaten it, or surely will, sometime in the near future, consume it.

“Now”, said he, “a question for you out there in the audience; can anyone tell me what food it is that causes the most grief and prolonged suffering, once you consume it?

“Then it struck me Mikey”, ‘Feckin Wedding Cake.’Facebooktwitterlinkedinmail

Thurles Man Mikey Ryan Absent From Arch Bar During January.

Things have been relatively quiet here in Thurles since Christmas. Sure with unlit Christmas lights, Snowmen and Santy Clauses, remaining strung up across Liberty Square, it’s Christmas now every day here in Thurles.

Even Mikey Ryan hasn’t appeared in the Arch Bar, Liberty Square, in the town, since the kids went back to school.

From what I can gather, it seems ‘her indoors’, has put her high heel down, since their youngest lad, Brad, ran into serious trouble with the Head Mistress in the local primary school, last week. It goes without saying same conduct resulted in that inevitable summoning of known parents.

I briefly ran into our Mikey last Saturday, up in Lacey’s Butchers in Friar Street, (Lacey’s according to Mikey, do a really unbelievable black pudding).

He was to be found traipsing around after ‘herself ‘,  and from what he was able to tell me (in lowish tones), it seems that the Head Mistress had asked her primary students in 6th class (of which Brad Ryan is a known regular attender since the last Court case), to use the word ‘fascinate’, in a sentence.

Bright, eleven year old, Kourtney was the first to put her hand up stating “My family went to visit our granddads farm; we found the pet lambs and the young foal really ‘fascinating’.”

The Head Mistress said, “That was excellent Kourtney, but I was hoping that you would have incorporated the verb ‘fascinate’, rather than the adjective ‘fascinating’, in your sentence composition.”

Equally bright, twelve year old, Beyónce was next to wave her hand. “My family took me to Euro Disney over Christmas and I was fascinated by Mickey Mouse and Goofy”, she rhymed off.

“Really good again Beyónce”, said the Head Mistress, “but again I was hoping you would have used the verb ‘fascinate’ instead of the adjective ‘fascinated’ in that sentence.”

Down the back of the class, young Brad Ryan, with hand raised, was madly clicking his fingers. A hesitant Head Mistress, having once before been ‘scalded’ by Brad’s previous interpretations of certain sentence forming; was reluctant to allow him to speak. Having, however, quickly decided that there was no possible way that he could mess with the verb ‘fascinate’, she gave him the nod to speak.

“My Aunty Mary has a sweater with 10 large, red, plastic buttons”, said Brad “but her breasts are so monstrous, she can only ‘fasten eight’.”

Oh Pat, give me one last one, for the road, before you close; when you’re ready like”, said I.Facebooktwitterlinkedinmail